


We're In For Colder Weather

by geckoholic



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dreams vs. Reality, Fluff and Angst, M/M, That Trip To Japan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: They've left the world Ash was raised in behind for now. They're not in L.A. anymore, or in New York. They're visiting Eiji's home, and it's a much nicer trip so far than the brief time they spent at Cape Cod.





	We're In For Colder Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Wishes Banana Fish zine. 
> 
> Beta-read by myst. Thank you very much! ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title is from "When The Seasons Change" by Five Finger Death Punch.

Ash blinks awake sluggishly. His eyes burn, and he's reluctant to open them; a voice in the back of his head tells him he won't like what he'll see if he does take a look. But the sun is warming his skin through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, the grass is tickling his arms, and he feels the rise and fall of another person's chest as they're breathing in close proximity, bodies pressed together. The closeness feels comforting, rather than suffocating like it so often did in his past, and as he inhales he recognizes Eiji's unique inherent smell, so new to him and yet so familiar. 

None of that hints at having woken to unpleasant surroundings. Ash swallows. He's just being paranoid, overanxious. He won't let his past define him, won't listen to kind of instinct that tells him it's better to lash out first and be certain. He curls closer against Eiji, inhaling another lungful of his scent, and opens his eyes. 

They're lying underneath a small tree, its shade just large enough to shield the both of them from the direct sun. Not like that's much of a concern anymore; said sun has started setting, dipping the world around them into warm blue-orange tones. Ash lets out a breath and glances up, finds Eiji awake and regarding him fondly, the look in his eyes so gentle and warm. No one's ever looked at Ash quite like Eiji does. Which is hardly surprising; Ash never met anyone quite like Eiji before. They really have been raised in different worlds, separated not just by geographical distance. 

And, oh. Yes. They've left the world Ash was raised in behind for now. They're not in L.A. anymore, or in New York. They're visiting Eiji's home, and it's a much nicer trip so far than the brief time they spent at Cape Cod. 

Eiji rests his hand lightly on Ash's hip, thumb rubbing circles into the stripe of bare skin where Ash's shirt rode up. “You slept most of the afternoon away,” he teases. 

Ash rears back a little, pouting at him. “Jet lag,” he complains, and Eiji laughs. 

“We've been here _a week_,” he says. “And you're the only one who's still sleeping at odd hours.” 

The way he puts emphasis on the word _we_ reminds Ash that, oh, yes. They're not alone. Everyone is here: Shorter, Max, and Ibe of course. Max even brought the kid. Ash is still stunned about the latter, wondering how he convinced his ex-wife to let him take their son across the ocean. 

He's roused from his thoughts, still sleep-drunk and slow, by Eiji tapping a knee against his leg. “Come on,” he says, sounding impatient and excited. “Get up. We've already missed the beginning.” 

“Oh?” Ash questions, but as he heaves himself into a sitting position and then lets Eiji pull him to a stand, it comes back to him. They're at a lake near Eiji's home town. It's supposed to have the most beautiful sunset in all of Japan. Earlier they visited a nearby art museum, and then they withdrew from the group to have some private time, letting the others drive into town to go toy shopping with Michael. 

Eiji smiles and points at the lake, at the small group of people standing near a balustrade a little ways away. Their shapes are familiar, Shorter's hair the most recognizable among them. Ash lets himself be dragged, never letting go of Eiji's hand, and ignores the pointed looks and knowing smiles from both Shorter and Max upon reaching the others. Ibe is distracted; he's explaining something to Michael, whose eyes weave back and forth between Ibe's face and whatever Ibe's pointing out across the lake. 

Eiji nudges Ash's shoulder, nodding his head in the same direction. “Look,” he says, with something like awe. “Look, it's so beautiful.” 

And while Ash isn't exactly the type to be taken in by scenery, he'll have to admit the view from here is quite stunning. The colors of he sky and the sinking sun are mirrored by the still surface of the lake, which is making the colors softer, pastel blue and orange fanning out into light pink near the horizon, framed by the darker blue silhouette of mountains in the distance. The shape of a small tree-covered island in the middle of the lake, almost black, contrasts against the play of colors like a paper cut-out. It looks almost too perfect, surreal, like a painting. 

***

Izumo seems tiny and downright rural, by Ash's standards. Then again, said standards were shaped by an adolescence in New York. He assumes most cities would lose out in that comparison, and Eiji's contagious excitement at leading him and Shorter around his hometown more than makes up for what Izumo's lacking in size. They manage to lose a full four hours in the shops and bars downtown, just him and Eiji and Shorter, trying food with names that Ash can't wrap his tongue around and buying lots of useless souvenirs and local oddities for no one in particular. Eiji tries to explain some of the Japanese characters to him, and they spend an eternity sat outside a small eatery, under cracking neon lights, Eiji teaching Ash how to write the former's name, at the very least. He patiently corrects the kanji over and over again until they look somewhat similar to Eiji's own handwriting.

Delighted, beaming with pride, Eiji claps his hands once and leans over on his chair to smother Ash in an enthusiastic side-hug that makes both their chairs wobble dangerously. 

Shorter peers across the table and huffs, pretending to be affronted. “Ash never showed any interest in learning how to write _my_ name in _Chinese_,” he points out. Then he smirks, reminiscent of a cat shoving an expensive vase off a table while keeping eye contact, and adds, “boyfriend privileges, huh?” 

Ash glares. Shorter laughs. Eiji blushes and excuses himself to the bathroom. 

He's just around the corner when Ash snatches the sheet of paper they've been practicing on off the table and pockets it. Shorter watches him do it, and his smirk evens out into something softer. 

“Like I said,” he teases, just as Ash gives him the finger. “Boyfriend privileges.” 

“Fuck off,” Ash grumbles, and miraculously, for once, Shorter does as he's told. They sit in a stalemate until Eiji returns, face falling as he notices that the piece of paper is gone. Ash doesn't give him a chance to inquire after it; he shrugs his shoulders, trying to look disinterested, all the while pressing his hand to the pocket where the incriminating evidence is hidden away. “Sudden breeze. Got blown away into traffic.” 

Shorter rolls his eyes, but doesn't rat him out. 

“Let's get going.” By the way of a diversionary maneuver, Ash stands, showing both of them his back and stretching both arms over his head, fingers still linked. His arms ache, a dull pain almost but not quite like sore muscles. “Night's still young.” 

He turns back around to empty chairs. He swivels back around, wanting to see if maybe they got ahead of him while he didn't pay attention, but there's no one around. Literally no one. The busy street is suddenly empty, no other patrons crowding the chairs around him. The bright neon light spikes, blinding him for a moment. He squints his eyes shut and lowers his left arm to rub them. 

No. He _tries_ to lower his left arm. He – 

*** 

The chains rattle as he struggles against the cuffs around his wrists for the umpteenth time. The skin there is rubbed raw already, small drops of blood welling up from the abrasions, but it's the only thing he can do and he'd be damned if he'd stopped, obviously futile and childish as that might seem. In the hallway, he can hear Arthur whistle, and he's not afraid. He's not yet numb. He's glad. Maybe this time Arthur will make a mistake, get overconfident and let him free to go toe to toe, or maybe he's here to retrieve him for Dino. The old man has always been greedy, and Ash wouldn't put it past Dino to demand a final fuck before stringing him back up to be eviscerated. Either way, it would give Ash a chance, however slim, to try and escape. A chance he'd seize, even if it's the last thing he does in this world. He doesn't care anymore whether he leaves this mansion ever again, be it dead or alive. But... Eiji. 

He already failed Shorter. He won't fail Eiji too.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [dreamwidth](https://geckoholic.dreamwidth.org/), [tumblr](http://lostemotion.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/spacenerdz).


End file.
